In the side chamber of the ancient temple, Baili Moxue still cradled the unconscious Yun Yantian tightly. Watching the pain etched on his face, her heart was gripped by a growing fear—an unshakable worry that she might have brought about his death.
"Big Sister Baili, don't worry. I believe Brother Yantian won't succumb so easily," Yun Yanshuang said quickly, noticing the anxiety and fear clouding Baili Moxue's expression.
"I hope so," Baili Moxue replied with a strained smile.
Suddenly, she felt a powerful presence outside the temple. It was followed by the harrowing wails of malevolent spirits dying—piercing cries that sent chills down her spine.
"Someone's here!"
Yun Yanshuang's sharp spiritual sense immediately picked up on the approaching figure.
"Shuang'er, stay here and take care of Yantian. I'll go check it out," Baili Moxue said, her tone firm.
